


You Don't Know Icarus

by misura



Category: Eight Days of Luke - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like many other boys (and more than a few girls as well, although David didn't yet know any girls well enough to be aware of this) when he was fifteen years old, David Allard decided that when he grew up, he wanted to be a superhero. (AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Know Icarus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WildAndFreeHearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildAndFreeHearts/gifts).



Like many other boys (and more than a few girls as well, although David didn't yet know any girls well enough to be aware of this) when he was fifteen years old, David Allard decided that when he grew up, he wanted to be a superhero.

The year before, he had wished to become a firefighter; the year before that, a pilot. Without a doubt, the year after, he would have decided on some other future career - secret agent, perhaps, or detective.

However, David did not become a firefighter, or a pilot, nor a secret agent or a detective. 

This was because, when he was fifteen years old, David Allard met Luke.

 

"If you could have anything at all in the world, what would you want?" Luke had asked, on one of those warm afternoons in the middle of Summer, when all you wanted to do was lie around doing nothing - except, perhaps, eat some ice cream.

David, however, had not asked for ice cream. This seemed to him to be a bad thing to ask for, as even though he had known Luke for nearly three days now, and felt as if he had known him for much longer, he did not think it was very polite to ask someone else to treat you to ice cream.

He did not immediately know what else he would want, though. He thought he might wish for his parents to be alive again, so that he could live with _them_ , rather than with his horrible relatives (whom you have not met yet, and whom you will not meet in this story, either, so you're simply going to have to take my word for it that they were, indeed, very horrible).

Wishing for his parents to not be dead would not be a wish that might ever come true, though. It might make Luke sad, to hear that even though David was with him, he still missed his parents - which was not entirely true, as David's parents had been dead for nearly five years now, and so David no longer thought of them every single day of his life.

He might wish for the holidays to last forever and ever; that would be a nice wish, David thought, because it would also show how much he enjoyed spending time with Luke.

However, at heart, David was one of those boys who liked learning things. He did not mind school.

Thus, he might wish for Luke to come with him, after the holidays had ended, but David did not even know how old Luke was, or where he went to school, or how he felt about Mathematics, or History. They had talked about all kinds of things these past days, but they hadn't talked about that.

"Well?" asked Luke, and he sounded like he felt David was perhaps making a rather big deal out of something that was not such a big deal at all.

And so David told Luke that if he could have anything at all in the world, he would wish to become a superhero.

Luke chuckled a little, which hurt David's feelings just a little. He knew, of course, that it was no more likely that he would become a superhero than it was that he would become a firefighter or a pilot or a secret agent or a detective, but still, that did not mean he enjoyed Luke making fun of him for it.

But then, just as David was about to open his mouth and tell these things to him, Luke said, "You'd need a cool costume," and David said that, indeed, he did, and so they spent the rest of the afternoon deciding what David's costume would look like, if he were to become a superhero, and what sort of special powers he would have, and how, thanks to his very clever disguise, no one he ever met would know that he had actually saved their lives the day before.

 

When he was sixteen years old, David's house burnt down to the ground.

He had always assumed it not to be his house, actually; it was the place where his horrible relatives lived, and so David had supposed it was really _their_ house, but it turned out that it had actually been his, and now that it had burnt down, the insurance company would pay him quite a lot of money.

At the time of the fire, David, of course, was at boarding school. He did not know anything at all about the fire until one of the teachers came and took him to the headmistress's office, who told him about it.

She said that, although the firemen had done their very best, all the people who had been in the house at the time had died. (She did not mention that the fire had been a very peculiar fire, and that the firemen had been unable to do anything about it at all until it had died down all at once, as if it had been a candle and someone had decided to blow it out, which made no sense at all.)

David was surprised to find that, even though they had been very horrible, he still felt sad at hearing that they were dead. He even cried a little, which the headmistress appeared to think was perfectly normal under the circumstances; she had her secretary fetch him a cup of tea and told him not to come to class for the rest of the day.

 

At seventeen, David discovered he did not like kissing girls; at eighteen, that he did not like kissing boys, either, or rather, that they did not seem to like kissing _him_.

Whenever they did, or were about to, or even said that they would like to, something always seemed to happen. They would get a very bad headache, or get a phone call from someone, or (in one case) have their jacket catch on fire all of a sudden.

It was a little bit odd, and David imagined it should perhaps have bothered him, except that, while he felt he should like to kiss _someone_ , he did not feel like he wanted it to be one particular person more than any other one.

He did not tell people this, of course. Everyone around him seemed to feel like they _did_ want to kiss one particular person more than any other one, and so David pretended that he did, too.

When someone pressed him, he told them that the person he wished to kiss more than any other one was the boy named Luke, whom he had only known for a week, nearly three years ago now, and never seen again, after.

People told him they thought this was very romantic and dreamy, and an excellent reason to wish to kiss David themselves. (Which, of course, they never actually succeeded in doing.)

 

Nothing happened to David while he was nineteen, or twenty.

Someone somewhere had written this down in a quite thick file which included a lot of pictures, all of his report cards, hand-written notes from all of David's teachers and also several costume designs.

 

Nothing happened to David while he was twenty-one, either, most certainly not this:

he ran into a building that was on fire. Now, for someone like you or me, this would have been a very foolish thing to do, but for David, it was the most normal thing in the world. He ran into building that were on fire all the time, but not because he was a firefighter.

David was a superhero. He did not have super strength, and he could not turn invisible, and he definitely was not able to fly, but whenever David came close to a fire, it would shrink back, as if it did not wish to hurt him. (This was not, of course, how the people who had written his file had described it. It was, however, what David felt to be actually happening, and he should know better than anyone.)

The government was very happy to have found someone with this superpower. They did not know why, but these past few years, there had been a lot of fires. In fact, it was as if there was a big, dangerous fire nearly every week, and a smaller, not so dangerous one every day. The firefighters were complaining that they could not handle this many fires, and the government was inclined to agree.

Supposedly, this particular fire had trapped some people on the fifth floor, and so David had been sent to get them out safely. When he reached the fifth floor, however, there was nobody there.

David considered what he ought to do next - he had been given a radio, but it did not appear to be working, possibly because of the fire. Eventually, he decided to go up to the sixth floor, reasoning that perhaps the people who had been here before had gone there.

There was, indeed, somebody on the sixth floor.

 

Afterwards, David could not explain, even to himself, why he had not taken Luke (for that was the person David had found on the sixth floor of the burning building) to the hospital, instead of to his own home. True, Luke did not seem to have gotten hurt, but he had still been unconscious when David had picked him up and driven him home.

There might be all sorts of things wrong with Luke, and even though he had learned first aid, David was hardly a doctor, qualified to determine such things.

All these things occurred to David as he put Luke down on his bed (David's couch being not quite big enough, and covered in books and old newspapers besides) and then, suddenly, looking at Luke's face, David realized that perhaps he was, indeed, that romantic and dreamy person people thought he was when he told them about Luke.

Looking at Luke, David did want to kiss him, more than he had ever wished to kiss anyone else.

However, as he thought this, David did not feel particularly dreamy or romantic. In fact, he felt rather guilty, as surely, he ought to be thinking of how best to help Luke and make sure that he was all right, rather than thinking of kissing him.

 

In the end, David did not tell anyone else about Luke. He told the lady from the government that there had been nobody on the fifth floor, which was true, and he told his boss at the newspaper that he had been out with a cold, which was not.

He did not tell Luke anything at all, for after three days, Luke still had not woken up. It was very worrying, and yet every time David resolved on taking Luke to the hospital, something happened that prevented him from doing so.

On Saturday, there was a small fire in a warehouse; on Sunday, it was a shoe shop, and on Monday, it was a school. On Tuesday, David was quite exhausted. Sleeping on the couch did not help.

Wednesday came and went again without any fires.

On Thursday, Luke woke up.

 

"Well, finally," said Luke, which seemed a slightly odd thing for him to say, David thought, even if, of course, Luke had always been slightly odd. It was one of the things David had liked about him so much when he was fifteen, and he was sure he would still like it when he would be ninety, or a hundred.

"Are you all right?" It was a reasonable question, but David found he felt a little embarrassed at how normal and not at all odd it was. He did not wish for Luke to think him boring, or quite like everyone else.

"Of course I am," said Luke. "Did you kiss me?"

David felt his face turn red. By Luke's tone, he could not tell if Luke wanted him to say 'yes' or 'no', so he said, "No," which was true.

Luke's expression seemed a little disappointed. "Whyever not? I thought you liked me."

"You were unconscious." It had sounded like a very good reason when David had told it to himself, but now, telling it to Luke, it sounded like not such a very good reason at all.

Luke certainly did not seem to think it was a very good reason. "Oh."

"Would - would you like to eat or drink something?" David had heard it was important for people who had been asleep for a very long time to eat and drink something as soon as they woke up.

Luke looked thoughtful for a few moments. "I suppose. If you will also eat and drink something."

 

On Friday there was a fire at a farm, so David had to leave in the middle of breakfast. Luke appeared slightly annoyed at this - not at David's leaving, but rather at the fact that there was a fire at all.

"It's not as if anybody can help it when there's a fire," said David.

"Of course they can," said Luke, looking a little surprised that David would need to be told something that was so obvious to him. "They're only meddling because they know I am with you."

David was tempted to ask who 'they' were, and why they should care if Luke was with David. However, before he could quite make up his mind, the car from the government arrived to take him to the farm.

 

There were no fires during the weekend, or on Monday, but on Tuesday, when they were having breakfast at the kitchen table, David noticed Luke was looking a little nervous, as if he was expecting something bad to happen at any moment.

Sure enough, just as he had poured himself a second cup of tea, the phone rang. Apparently, two neighbors had set each other's houses on fire while they'd been arguing over who had the nicest garden, which seemed to David to be a rather silly thing to argue about.

On Wednesday, Luke was even more nervous. There were no phone calls, but after breakfast, Luke declared he would go out by himself, and that he did not wish for David to follow him, which was not at all something David would have considered doing anyway.

"Sorry," said Luke, as he seemed to realize that he was being a little rude. "Honestly, I had not thought for an instant that they would make such a fuss."

"If it's _them_ making a fuss, then that's not something _you_ should be apologizing for, is it?" said David. "Only tell me if there's anything I can do to help, and I'll gladly do so."

"Thank you, David. It means very much to me to hear you say so." Luke's tone was friendly and warm, and David did not doubt at all that Luke was sincere, but he also knew quite sure that Luke had no intention whatsoever of asking David for help, or even telling him what Luke might need help with.

 

On Thursday, someone rang David's doorbell. It was a tall, ginger-haired young man with a very nice smile and his arrival seemed to make Luke less nervous, rather than more.

In fact, David noticed with just a tiny bit of jealousy, Luke appeared almost happy to see David's visitor. They certainly seemed to know one another quite well, and David noticed how, when they spoke, both of them smiled a lot. They sat very close to one another, too, on David's couch, which was admittedly not very big.

"They just don't want you to kick the whole thing off too early," said the ginger-haired young man. He sounded, David thought, a bit like Luke had, the other day, like he was apologizing for something someone else had done.

"But that's not what I'm doing at all," said Luke.

"Nevertheless," said the ginger-haired young man. "You can see why they might think something like that, surely. All these fires - well." He looked at David.

Luke looked at David as well. "I'm not planning to stop. Not just yet."

The ginger-haired man sighed unhappily. "Is there really nothing I can do to convince you? I mean, is it even really what he wants?"

"You could - " Luke began, and then he stopped talking and shook his head. "No. Tell them to leave me alone, or else I might just try and do what they don't want me to do." This seemed, to David, a very vague threat, but the ginger-haired young man looked quite alarmed.

"Please. You don't really want to do that, do you?"

"I don't want to, but I will if they make me," said Luke. "I'm sorry."

"Well, that's not going to do any good, is it?" said the ginger-haired young man, even though he did look a little more cheerful. "Very well, I'll tell them what you've said, and we'll have to see if it's enough. Now, how about we go out somewhere and I'll buy the two of you some lunch? Or ice cream, or dinner, perhaps?"

"Not dinner," said Luke determinedly. "And not ice cream. It's not warm enough for ice cream."

"Lunch, then," the ginger-haired young man said, and Luke nodded, so David went and got his jacket, and the three of them got into the car the ginger-haired young man had arrived in. It looked rather old and a bit battered, and David thought it might be American, but it still ran quite well, which he supposed was the most important thing.

 

"You like being a superhero, don't you?" Luke asked.

It was Friday. The ginger-haired young man had treated them to a very good lunch before he had driven away in his battered American car. David had been sorry to see him go, which surprised him, given that they had only known one another for a few hours.

He had also been surprised and a little embarrassed to realize he did not know the ginger-haired young man's name. Surely, he had been told the name, either by Luke or by the ginger-haired young man himself, but somehow, it seemed to have entirely slipped his mind.

David considered Luke's question. Did he like being a superhero?

He liked to feel that what he was doing was important, he supposed. That it _mattered_. If it hadn't been for him, people might have gotten hurt, or even killed.

Still, at the end of the day, he was not at all sure if being a superhero actually made him happy. He hardly ever met people with whom he could be honest about who he was, or where he was going when he had to leave all of a sudden.

Most of his colleagues at the newspaper thought he lied a lot about being sick because he didn't like his job. Most of the people of the government, who did know who he was and where he went when they called him, were a little bit afraid of him. Certainly, they did not view him as someone with whom they might like to get a drink, or have lunch, or get to know better.

"I think I like it better now that you are here," he said at last.

This answer did not seem to make Luke very happy.

David thought about what he might say to brighten Luke's mood. "If I could choose between no longer being a superhero and getting you to stay with me for longer than a week, I'd choose the second."

He was not, in fact, sure if that was what Luke and the ginger-haired young man had been talking about. He knew Luke had been gone very suddenly the last time they had met, though, without even saying goodbye.

"Oh," said Luke, and he did look a little happier now. "Are you quite sure?"

David assured Luke that he was. "Although I don't suppose it works like that, does it?"

When he had still been living with his horrible relatives, he had often told himself things like this. That he would gladly not eat dessert for a week, if only they would become a little less horrible, or that he would run a hundred times around the school grounds, if only he would not be called on in class.

Needless to say, it had never worked.

"I think it might," said Luke. "Thor seems to think it might, anyway, and he's often right."

Thor was, apparently, the name of the ginger-haired young man. It was an unusual name, and David was not at all sure it fitted him; he pictured Thor as someone with a lot of muscles, and blond hair, and a bright red cape. He supposed perhaps Thor's parents had been avid comic readers, and named their son after their favorite character.

"Well, I'll be glad to do it," David said firmly. The government might not be pleased, but they had managed to fight fires well enough before they had found him, so he was sure they could do so again.

"They won't even remember your name," said Luke, as if he was reading David's mind. "After all, we don't want them to send you to fight a fire when you're not immune to them anymore."

David had not even considered that this might happen, but now that he thought about it, he agreed that it would have been very unpleasant.

"I'll be gone for a few days," said Luke. "I'll definitely come back, though. I promise."

David nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but then Luke leaned over and kissed him, and he quite forgot what he'd been going to say, or even that he was able to speak at all.

 

One week passed, and another one, and nobody rang David to tell him of any fires, but Luke did not come back, either, until, on a Thursday, David heard the sound of a klaxon, and as he looked out of the window, he saw a familiar car.

The ginger-haired young man whose name was Thor had pressed the klaxon, and Luke was getting out of the car. There was a big grin on his face.

David packed all of his clothes and all of the books and pictures he wished to keep in several bags and boxes, and the three of them put them all into Thor's car, which David had thought to be impossible, given the number of bags and boxes, and the size of the car.

Still, it all fitted somehow and by the end, there was just enough space left for Luke and David to get in as well, which they did.

David did not look back as they drove away. If he had, he might have seen one last fire, and if he'd read the local newspaper on Friday, he might have read about a tragic fire that had caused the death of one person who would be missed very much by all of the people at the newspaper, as he had been their very dear colleague and friend.

So, really, it was probably just as well David did not look back.

Kissing Luke was much more fun than watching a house burn down or reading things that were not at all true in a newspaper.


End file.
